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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292409">sweet as wine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourladyofresurrection/pseuds/Ourladyofresurrection'>Ourladyofresurrection</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BFU Requests [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Frottage, Lap Dances, M/M, Ryan Bergara Loves Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej - Freeform, Shane Madej Loves Ryan Bergara, Tumblr Prompts, shyan, skeptic believer, stripper!Shane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:21:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ourladyofresurrection/pseuds/Ourladyofresurrection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There he was, like disco superfly<br/>I smell sex and candy here<br/>Who's that lounging in my chair?<i></i></i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>BFU Requests [8]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1369177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>sweet as wine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt from anonymous on tumblr: "Request: Stripper AU, but Shane's the stripper and no one knows until Ryan ends up at the club where Shane works because it's a new club."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Look— none of this would have happened if Steven Lim wasn’t a scheming little weasel who doesn’t respect the sanctity of Chubby Have I Bunnied. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Never have I ever lived in Arcadia, California,” Steven said through a mouthful of marshmallows. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was foul— but fair play, and an obvious payback for Ryan’s earlier targeted question at Steven. Ryan laughed and begrudgingly fit another extra large marshmallow into his cheeks, nudging Shane.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I feel like you have” he smiled, pointing a finger at him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Hm? Have I ever </span> <span class="s2">lived</span> <span class="s1"> in Arcadia, California?”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I thought you said slept,” Ryan snorted, a rogue marshmallow falling out of his mouth like a crewmate jumping ship.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Shane bit his lip, remembering that one time, years ago when he and Ryan had just started working at Buzzfeed as interns, Ryan inviting him to stay at his parents’ house in Arcadia. He remembered that night all too clearly— the night of their first and only kiss. </span> <span class="s1">It was as though they reached some silent agreement to never mention it again, and Shane didn’t dare to, keeping their work relationship and his own feelings separate. But that was ages ago, and even if Shane’s feelings were still virulent in moments like these when Ryan looked soft and sure, leaning into his space, he had gone this long without mentioning it. </span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><em><span class="s2">No need to ruin a good thing,</span></em> <span class="s1"> he thought bitterly, and begun to wonder if he would have to dig out that old journal sooner than expected.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan had lost the game, forced to spit a congealed mess of mashed-up marshmallow into the staff sink, much to the mutual disgust of his co-hosts, and that’s when shit hit the fan.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ryan, since you’re the loser, I think you should face punishment of some sorts,” Steven said thoughtfully, grinning as he reclined back in his chair.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now, now, let’s be civil,” Shane tutted, Ryan rising to meet Steven’s eye beside him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like what?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I don’t know...” Steven hummed, twiddling his fingers. Shane could practically hear the gears turning in his head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steven and Ryan had always had this peculiar rivalry of sorts. It was usually victimless and in terms of workplace conflict, relatively mild, but sometimes it got carried away. Shane could think of about ten different instances off the top of his head where the two had gone head-to-head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about...you have to go to a strip-club—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“What?!” Ryan burst into laughter, head tilting towards the ceiling as he snorted into his hands, “Wha— </span> <span class="s2">why?”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“—for two hours, with the boys,” Steven finished, “Come on, Ryan, it’ll be fun.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane instantly paled, pulse hot and wild beneath his skin, Ryan’s laughter muffled below the ringing in his ears. He swallowed thickly, only shaken from his thoughts by Ryan’s hand, searing hot on his thigh.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you say, Big Guy? You, me, Big Apple Steve, and T.J. out on the town this Friday?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane looked at Ryan’s sunshine smile, those glittering brown eyes, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Steven’s simple gag had sent him into. Ryan’s touch seemed to brand his skin beneath his skinny jeans. He shivered, putting on what he hoped was a composed face.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, boys,” he said breezily, “m’afraid I’ve got plans.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Booooo,” Steven called after him as he hobbled unsteadily to his feet, making a bee-line for the water cooler.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan laughed, adding a few taunts of his own, but as Shane cooled his burning face against his aluminum water bottle, he noticed Ryan’s curious glance, as if trying to read Shane’s mind.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Okay—Shane hadn’t <em>lied.</em> He really </span> <em><span class="s2">was </span></em> <span class="s1">busy on Friday night. What important plans he had, he couldn’t say, not even as Ryan continued to pester him for the rest of the week. He supposes that considering the nature of said aforementioned plans, it would have been wiser to cancel them altogether and just tag along. </span><span class="s1">It would be easier right? He could see Ryan get drunk and danced upon by a few scantily-clad women and then Uber it back home after knocking back a few brewskis himself. </span><span class="s1">But it wasn’t his fault— how was he supposed to know that the strip club Steven would drag Ryan to would be the same strip club Shane worked at? </span><span class="s1">Look, Shane wasn’t down on his luck by any means— he had recently started a promising new company with two of his closest friends and colleagues, and was still receiving a cushy contracting cheque from Buzzfeed for their Unsolved series. And despite his recent exit out of a long-term relationship, he liked to think he was doing pretty well, co-parenting a cat with a woman he still very much considered a good friend. </span><span class="s1">But Los Angeles was an expensive place to live, and despite his nonchalant attitude in the Watcher Weekly, he couldn’t help but wonder, if it all went south, what would his backup plan be?</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Besides, why did strippers always need some tragic background story to justify what they do? Couldn’t they just dance because they </span> <span class="s2">enjoyed</span> <span class="s1"> it? Shane certainly did, and it came as a real surprise. </span><span class="s1">He never actually expected to take his brother’s friend up on the offer when Finn dragged him to a bar one weekend. They were four drinks in, intoxicated by the booze and fluorescent lights of the dim club, but that single passing comment ended up thrusting Shane into what would eventually become his side job and newfound passion.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You could probably strip,” he joked, knocking back some fruity drink, “got the legs for it and everything.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">The guy was piss-drunk and drenched in body glitter— not exactly the kind of person you would take moral advice from, but nevertheless, Shane woke the next morning with a pounding head and an odd curiosity. </span><span class="s1">It was a joke at first— like one of those bizarre hypotheticals your brain sometimes conjures up. But you never actually </span> <span class="s2">act</span> <span class="s1"> on them. The only problem was that he did, and by the time he had secured his first gig, he could no longer deny that he was actually </span> <span class="s2">interested</span> <span class="s1"> in a job like this. </span><span class="s1">Okay, so what? He was a young, attractive man living in a particularly liberal part of L.A. He shouldn’t have to prove himself, or feel ashamed about what he does. Hell, half the people he worked with were gay and heavily involved in the nightclub scene. And yet still, he found himself choosing not to mention this particular part of his life to his coworkers— </span> <span class="s2">especially</span> <span class="s1"> not Ryan.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It just never came up, and Shane never thought that it would— that was before Ryan showed up at his strip club.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The atmosphere hit Ryan like a freight train the second two intimidating bouncers begrudgingly lifted up two velvet ropes, letting him, Steven, and T.J. into the nightclub.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was rather upscale, and nothing like the sleazy, smoke-filled joints Ryan remembered from his college days. The walls were black marble, lined with tasteful vintage band posters and neon hanging emblems. An authentic-looking jukebox sat nestled in the corner, and along the stage, a line of attractive dancers had started to form.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t believe they still I.D’ed me at the door,” Ryan shouted above the music, vibrating intensely through the floor and walls.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steven grinned, “Well, you know what they say— Asian don’t raisin.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What—“ Ryan laughed, unaware if Steven could even hear him over the noise, “I’ve never heard that before.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Steven smiled and nodded towards a nearby waitress, leaning in closer to Ryan’s ear, “Maybe you can try to get a free drink. You never know!”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">T.J. rolled his eyes, “Meet me at the bar by twelve. And try not to do anything that’s going to get us arrested.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">With that he left, striking up a conversation with the bartender. T.J. was a married man with a newborn baby at home— a strip club was the last place he wanted to be, but he obliged to humour Ryan and to provide a ride home if needed. </span> <span class="s1">Ryan, however was recently single. He and Mari had broke things off amicably about a month prior, giving her more freedom to explore her blooming career and Ryan more opportunities to film things for Watcher without feeling guilty about time spent away from home. </span> <span class="s1">They were on good terms, but breakups were never easy, and Ryan was more than happy to get his mind off the situation and get himself back into the dating pool. He suspected Steven’s intentions were as such when he suggested this in the first place, and overcome with a sudden wave of affection for the man, slung an arm around his shoulder.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“C’mon, Big Apple Steve. Let’s go find us some dancers.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">The performances were impressive. Sultry but tasteful, dozens of dancers strutted the stage, winding around glimmering silver poles like black cats, smoky eyes glittering down at the crowd. </span> <span class="s1">There were a few men in the mix too, clad in tight, cropped black clothes, rippling with muscle underneath. Ryan paid no mind to them, used to L.A.’s diverse, open culture, and after knocking back a few drinks, he even found himself eyeing them as much as the girl performers. </span> <span class="s1">It was then that his heart stopped dead in his chest, pushing away the slow haze of liquor from his mind as his eyes zeroed in on one tall figure working the stage. </span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">The man was unbelievably tall— towering above the rest of the performers, even the ones in six-inch heels. Through the rips in his black jeans, he could see his pale skin, broken up by delicate lace fishnets clinging to his slim long legs. </span> <span class="s1">As the man peeled his shirt off, his collarbones jutted outwards, lean muscle trailing downwards from between his chest. His makeup was minimal— just smudged black eyeliner and a light dusting of glitter down his cheeks and pecs, hair mussed up as if he’d just had sex. </span> <span class="s1">He swayed gracefully to the music, toying with the button of his jeans teasingly, stalking the pole like a predator before swinging around it once, smoothly. Ryan’s jaw dropped, and as he made eye contact with the stranger, the man visibly blanched.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...” Ryan choked out, pants alarmingly tight as a hot coil wound inside his stomach.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Shane was running off the stage, disappearing behind a blue velvet curtain as the music boomed on.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow,” Steven said, equally as baffled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Ryan said shakily, nearly tripping over his seat.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stumbled towards the floor, and much to his own surprise, he found himself ignoring the neon green restroom sign, heading straight for the backstage instead.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He found Shane hunched over a vanity with smudged makeup and a lit cigarette like a tragic Hollywood star drowning in self pity and body glitter. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not offering any private dances right now,” he grumbled, voice muffled by his hand.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...” Ryan said, unsure of what the proper protocol was upon finding your friend naked and grinding on a stripper pole. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was even less sure about how to gracefully navigate that conversation with a raging boner.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” Shane said softly, taking in a sharp breath.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both spoke at the same time, laughing quietly like it was some kind of Mexican stalement and not the singlehanded most confusing moment of their entire friendship thus far.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You first,” Shane said almost shyly, and it occurred to Ryan then that for the first time in their dynamic, Shane might be more scared than him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I had no idea,” he said lamely, and cast his gaze back at his sneakers.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">Nice going, Bergara. Real smooth.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane laughed dryly, “Yeah, that...that was kinda the whole point. Who woulda thought Steven would pick the only strip club I’m working at tonight, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan smiled, scratching his neck, “Yeah. Uh— I just...” he looked at Shane, biting his lip, “Why didn’t you tell me? I know it’s none of my business what you do in your spare time but...we’re friends, Shane. You know you can share this stuff with me, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane looked down at his lap, looking guilty, “I know, Ryan, I just...” he sighed, “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean,” Ryan shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. It was decidedly hard to have a serious conversation when your incredibly hot friend was half naked and sweaty in front of you. “Is it for money or—“</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” Shane said instantly. He shook his head, “I just...” he trailed off, looking at Ryan and offering a halfhearted shrug, “like it, I guess.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan nodded, furrowing his brows, trying to take all this information in through his beer-clouded mind.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” he said finally.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane looked at him, looking surprisingly vulnerable and almost small in his chair, “Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan swallowed thickly, “You were really good out there.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane snorted, scratching at his chin, fingers scraping against his beard with a soft sound that send another confusing jolt of heat towards Ryan’s groin.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Ryan said, surprised at how deep his voice sounded. He began to walk towards Shane, seemingly not by his own accord. “Really good.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You already said that,” Shane said smiling, looking amused.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em><span class="s1">“</span><span class="s2">Really</span> </em> <span class="s1"> good,” Ryan repeated, voice husky and thick in his chest. Shane’s eyes were wide, and from their close distance, he could see as they dilated, eyes darkening further.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He licked his lips, feeling dizzy with the intensity of it all, high on the sight of Shane before him, “Still not doing any private dances tonight?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I...” Shane trailed off, looking at his lips, “I might be able to make an exception.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Like moving through water, Shane slowly stood up, drawing up a chair, pushing on Ryan’s chest until he fell back into it, breaths laboured as they tore through his chest. </span> <span class="s1">Shane circled the chair once, twice, dragging his fingertips teasingly against Ryan’s low collar before stopping in front of him, dropping gracefullyto the ground on the balls of his feet, smiling coyly at him, gripping his chin. </span> <span class="s1">He got up again, slowly swinging his hips and trailing his hands along his thighs, dragging them up his hardened pecs before threading them through his hair, giving it a resolute tug. He poised one of his long legs on the arm of Ryan’s chair, the impressive bulge in his jeans in direct eyesight as he dragged Ryan’s gaze up to meet his own.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Shane slowly pivoted, fully into the dance now, a small smile on his face as he ground back against Ryan, grabbing his hands and placing them on his thighs, where fishnets poked out of the leg of his jeans. Ryan’s breath faltered in his lungs, </span> <span class="s1">“Holy fuck,” he gasped, the air knocked out of him like he’d just taken a football to the chest. His fingers twitched along the exposed line of skin, feeling like a teenager creaming his pants after getting to first base.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s2">What the fuck.</span> </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Shane was pulling away, dragging him by the hand to a small couch in the middle of the room.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shane, wha—“ Ryan was cut off by a strangled moan as Shane pushed him back into the cushions, straddling his lap with practiced ease.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane smiled against his neck, starting to trail soft kisses along his jawline as he began to unbutton Ryan’s shirt.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, Shane, I—“ he panted nonsensically, hands exploring whatever expanse of skin he could reach. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Shane sucked a small bruise just under his ear, Ryan’s shirt popped open, nipples immediately hardening under the cool air as Shane began to grind softly down onto him, mouthing a hot line up his neck and clavicles.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Please, please,” Ryan moaned, reaching out for him. In his clouded mind, he wasn’t even fully aware of what he was asking for until he found it in between Shane’s parted lips. He</span> <span class="s1"> sighed into the kiss, hands cupping Shane’s cheeks as his settled on Ryan’s shoulders, rutting dirtily against the front of his jeans. Ryan gasped into the kiss, a strangled moan torn out of his lips as Shane drew his fingers down to pad at his sensitive nipples.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck!” he groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his movements.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Someone’s sensitive,” Shane murmured in his ear, placing a teasing bite along his jaw.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shane, <em>Shane</em>,” he breathed, eyes rolling back into his head.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Shane took one pec into his mouth and Ryan Bergara was a dead man. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em><span class="s1">“</span><span class="s2">Ohhh!</span></em><span class="s1"><em>”</em> he borderline </span> <span class="s2">whined</span> <span class="s1">, clawing at Shane’s smooth back as he nipped at the bud, laving his tongue over it and mouthing hotly between his sternum.</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He ground down once, twice, and eyes glittering, placing his mouth over his sensitive nipple, he reached down with his free hand and squeezed the bulge pressing against the zipper of Ryan’s jeans. </span><span class="s1">With one plaintive moan and a stuttered, </span> <em><span class="s2">Shane</span></em><span class="s1"><em>,</em> Ryan bucked his hips up and stilled, wide-eyed and flushed pink under the soft lights, </span><span class="s1">“I just came in my pants,” he said suddenly. “Oh my God.”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane cracked up, slumping against Ryan and burying his nose in his shoulder, “Oh my <em>God,</em> Ryan.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not my fault you’re so hot!” he said defensively, clinging onto Shane as he blanketed his body warmly, pressing him into the couch. He pressed a small kiss to his exposed neck, and Shane smiled.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m never letting you live this one down,” he wheezed, clapping him once on the ass, “I guess the viewers were right about your nipple thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“S-Shut up, Shane,” he muttered, pinching him in the arm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane huffed out a laugh against his neck and as the air stilled, he shut his eyes, “So...should we talk about this?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ryan shifted underneath him, “Nah,” he said groggily, leaning into his touch, “let’s do that when I haven’t had five brewskis.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Five?” Shane laughed, “Your frat boy habits die hard, Ryan. You’re gonna be a real menace tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well,” Ryan said slowly, tracing a line down his back, “maybe you should come home with me and make sure my morning is tolerable.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Ryan said, feeling emboldened with each inch he grew closer to Shane, high off the post-orgasm bliss and the smell of Shane’s cologne warm and sweet against his skin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shane grabbed his ass, “I fuckin’ love Steven Lim.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As Ryan dissolved into laughter, he couldn’t help but share the sentiment. And that night when he and Shane walked out of the bar hand-in-hand, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was Steven’s plan all along.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My first suggestive fic for this fandom- what a milestone. Shane's certainly got stripper legs, I kinda need to to see this AU, so if any of you fan artists out there wanna call that into existence, send it to me over at @ryansunsolved on tumblr. ;)</p><p>Also I'm accepting prompts, so feel free to drop some requests in the comments or in my ask box over at tumblr. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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